


Awkward Morning-Afters

by TheQueen



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 10:50:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueen/pseuds/TheQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin wakes with an ache in his ass that pushes bone deep and a hangover that beats against the side of his skulls like hammers on steel during one of his bad days. Needless to say, he feels like absolute shit and if it weren't for the fact that he had the vague inkling that something important was happening today, he'd go back to sleep and wait for the sun to burn out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awkward Morning-Afters

Thorin wakes with an ache in his ass that pushes bone deep and a hangover that beats against the side of his skulls like hammers on steel during one of his bad days. Needless to say, he feels like absolute shit and if it weren't for the fact that he had the vague inkling that something important was happening today, he'd go back to sleep and wait for the sun to burn out.

But he does feel like he has to do something, though for the life of him he can't remember what the fuck it is (something to do with fire) and he sits up once the urge to hurl has passed to the point where breathing doesn't make his stomach role. The sitting up does, but his stomach settles after enough huffing and groaning. He's been gone enough times to know that this morning was only going to get worse if he didn't find a glass of water and something greasy fast. But to do that would it required opening his eyes.

Which is quite possibly the dumbest thing he has ever done (And for fucks sake, since when did his house have such large, bloody windows to begin with?) short of letting Kili get a tattoo. Dis hadn't let him come home for three days, and it'd been snowing! His big toe still didn't look right.

Either way, his eyes are open; he is sitting up; he is very obviously hung-over...and those are _not_ his windows. Once again, he wonders if it is too late to crawl under the covers and die, because Balin is going to end him anyway.

Getting out of bed--pausing to keep the vomit in place--he walks over to the window and peers out. He knows that tower...he knows that ugly shop with the wilted flowers...but where...

Turning, he reaches for a nonexistent weapon when he hears a body lean against the door frame with a thump.

"I see you're awake," Bard grunts, body tense with irritation.

Thorin stares, lips pressed tight, as he is suddenly made starting aware of his own nakedness. Not that he is ashamed, he knows his allure. But still, it warranted the question of _why_ he is naked to begin with...And his ass hurt...Forget Balin, Dwalin may rip his head from his shoulders!

Finally, he sighs, "Regretfully," he jokes with a voice a bit too flat to be anything but the truth.

Bard snorts and his shoulders fall just a bit. If this is going to be the awkward morning-after, it doesn't need to be that awkward--dealt with enough of those in his lifetime.

"Bathrooms to the left, and breakfasts on the table when you're ready." Bard turns to leave as he adds, "Mind to hide the marks, aye? Kids don't need ta know."

Nodding, he takes care walking to the bathroom--reminder to get some lotion for Bard is apparently very well endowed--as he wonders how he can get one before he goes. After all if he's going to die by Balin's wrath, it's good to get when he can. Hopefully his drunken-self had preformed, and Thorin ached to know how similar Bard is to his ancestor. 

**Author's Note:**

> It is forever my belief that Teen!Thorin loved sex a little too much and has probably slept with all of Erebor, at least half of Dale, and Thranduil. 
> 
> Balin is unamused. 


End file.
